


The Ceremony

by twowritehands



Series: The Partnership of Ward and Jakoby [2]
Category: Bright (2017)
Genre: Brothers, Gen, Humor, Orc Culture, Partnership
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2019-03-15 21:50:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13622334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twowritehands/pseuds/twowritehands
Summary: Nick does something weird at the gym...





	The Ceremony

The precinct gym smelled of sweat, mold, and industrial strength cleaner. Ward and Jakoby took turns spotting each other on the weight bench. Others nearby punched hanging bags or rubber mannequins. A pair sparred on the mats.

The atmosphere was an easy one. Everyone tossed out the usual playful smack talk. After two years, very little of what was aimed at Jakoby included racial slurs. Ward got his fair share of Orc Boyfriend jokes, but he'd learned to lean into it.

Wasn't difficult to proudly claim Jakoby in any way shape or form, while the dude was benching upwards of four hundred pounds. It was so impressive, Ward had let go of the vague humiliation that came each time they switched turns, and he had to unload half the weights that Jakoby had been lifting with ease.

“How’d Sophie do at the spelling bee?” Jakoby asked, sitting up from the bench and mopping sweat from his forehead.

“Ahh,” Ward waved a hand. “She cleaned the floor with them. Won with the word _Parliament_. They say that's an 8th grade word. Kills me that we only got to see it on a phone screen.”

“You're both working hard for her. I bet she gets it.”

“She can get it and still resent it,” Ward grunted.

“You're worrying about nothing. Every time I see her, she seems like a normal happy little--” Nick cut off and sniffed the air.

Ward frowned. “What?”

Nick sniffed and turned his head and sniffed again. He stood and faced the mat. Ward looked, too, and saw a few of the latest rookies had arrived for their PT. Notably, one of the new hires was a centaur. He would make the third on the LAPD payroll but the first in this precinct, younger than his predecessors by about fifteen years.

And smaller too. In fact, Ward would have thought the guy was a teenager if not for the fact that he was a rookie cop and so had to be at least 26.

Nick inhaled deeply. His yellow eyes fixed on that centaur. His usual amiable expression had gone dark, angry. Seeing this, Ward huffed in confusion and shock, “Man, what the hell?”

“Hey!” Nick shouted over to the rookies, surprising Ward with the volume and sheer ferociousness. The young men looked around, and Nick pointed at the centaur. “ _You_.”

Ward had never felt so out of the loop. He wanted to pull Nick aside and get the details before anyone threw down. But he didn't exactly have time to do that.

The horse man stepped forward, a mirror of the same aggression Jakoby exhibited. He was blonde. His torso was lean under an LAPD t shirt. His flank was white with a long frosty tail brushing the floor. Black hooves stomped the mat as his hands went into fists.

“Do we have a problem, orc?” he asked sharply. Ward took a step back, feeling the lash of the centaur’s unwarranted rage. But Jakoby didn't budge an inch.

“You're damn right we have a problem, ponyboy!” Nick growled.

Ward balked. Others around the gym exclaimed in surprise at the sudden outburst of uncharacteristic aggression from the orc.

The centaur reared on his hind legs. “You want to go?”

“Yeah, let's go!” Nick cried.

Ward got a _real_ bad feeling. But before anyone could intervene, Nick charged the centaur.

“Hey--wh--JAKOBY!” Ward yelled.

The centaur charged too, and Nick didn't slow down. The pair collided over the center of the mat. Ward exclaimed in shock and worry. Damn, he'd known Nick must have a death wish for choosing to be a cop, but he’d never seen anyone win in a fight against a centaur, except maybe another centaur.

Nick and the rookie grappled. The four legged man had height on his side, but his upper body strength was no match to the orc. Nick managed a move that brought the horse man--hindquarters and all--flipping over his shoulder. The spectacular sight took Ward’s breath away.

_Damn!_

“Nick! The fuck?!” Ward cried, finding his voice.

“Stay out of this, Ward!” Nick growled, holding the writhing centaur’s shoulders to the mat with a knee. Hooves and tail flailed aggressively against the rubber mat. But he couldn't unseat the 240 pound orc.

“Sellers, do you even know him?” An officer asked the centaur.

Struggling to break free of the orc’s surprisingly strong hold, Sellers snarled. “Not as well as I know his mom.”

This made Nick’s ears lay back against his head, nostrils flaring. His temporary loss of focus cost him. The centaur broke the hold and, in three more moves, pinned Jakoby to the mat.

Everyone gathered around and watched. No one tried to pull them apart. Not only did it seem personal rather than race related, but no one wanted to get between an orc and a man with four hoofed feet. Ward stood on the edge of the mat, feeling a strange mixture of helplessness and pride.

He clapped his hands and called, “Go’on, Nick. You can take this motherfucker!”

Others echoed him. Some of the rookies began to root for Sellers. Bets were placed.

“C’mon, Jakoby. Show this punk what an orc does.”

Nick managed to get out of the hold. Ward’s cheer was loudest. He had never been more proud of this dude. “That's my partner!” He boasted over the cheers.

Now both opponents were breathless and circling in crouched positions. Their eyes sparked hotter than ever with harnessed aggression. Ward willed his partner to be smart; this fight was about strategy not brute strength.

Nick lunged at the centaur's weak side, slid beneath him and tripped him up (risky as hell, it made Ward yelp like a mother hen) but Nick was spry enough to get out of the way before the horse came crashing down.

“DAT’S MAH PARTNER! DAT’S MAH PARTNER! WOO! JAKOBY!” Ward hollered. Nick wasn't quite fast enough to get to Paul before he had his legs back beneath him. Ward caught a glimpse of a little grin on Nick’s face.

As the fight wore on, Ward became less and less worried for his partner. The centaur wasn't fighting dirty. (It would take just one powerful kick for him to win the whole thing.) The pair seemed to be sticking to conventional wrestling rules. They lunged at one another once again. Nick held his own for a few more minutes before he was pinned to the mat for a final time.

Their co-workers grumbled and traded money as bets were lost or won. The winner helped Nick to his feet and--to Ward’s bewilderment--they laughed together. The centaur knelt so that he and Nick could embrace.

Chest to chest, they slapped one another's backs and then, foreheads together, they complimented each other's strengths. Ward approached cautiously.

“Uuuh, guys? What the fuck was that?”

They pulled apart. Nick extended a hand to his opponent. “I’m Nick Jakoby.”

“Paul Sellers.”

They shook, grinning boyishly at one another.

“Soooooo,” Ward looked between them, “You _don't_ know each other?”

“We do now,” Paul said. The rest of the onlookers converged with cries of amazement, mostly for the orc’s daring attack.

“Jakoby! That move was incredible! Never saw anything like it! You took a friggin centaur down! The fuck?”

“Hey, Ward, why didn't you tell us your partner was such a badass?”

“Well, I mean.” Ward flapped his lips. “Pssht. It wasn't all that. Paul is, like, the littlest centaur ever.”

“Fuck you, Daryl.” Nick said, the same time Paul said, “Hey, crawl under here and suck my dick.”

But they knew it was just a tease and laughed with each other. The crowd dispersed and Ward stayed by Nick and the rookie.

Paul knocked Nick on the shoulder with scoff. “Hey, man. That was awesome. Most orcs around here think The Ceremony is outdated.”

“Nah, man. I grew up in Sierra Nevada,” Nick explained. “We still do things right there.”

“I'm from Bakersfield!”

They shook hands and embraced again.

“My family camped in the Sierra Nevada a lot when I was a kid,” Paul said. “And the Mojave Desert. Beautiful country.”

“Sure is. LA is a shithole but you get used to it.”

“Did you hold to Ceremony with The Others when you joined?” Paul said _the others_ with an air of elitism which centaur's always used when they spoke of their own kind. Centaurs had a way of using a lot of mysterious capital letters.

“No. I don't know if they just don't hold tradition or if it's because my arrival was so controversial to begin with. But if they want to go, I'll go.” Nick puffed up and flexed his arm muscles. It made Ward chuckle fondly but shake his head. God, Nick was a dork.

“You can take Johnson, man.” Paul assured.

Ward pushed air through his lips. “Nah, dude. Johnson is like 16 hands. No way.”

Nick agreed. “Yeah that guy is _way_ too big.”

“But he's also retiring at the end of the year,” Paul said. “That gives you an advantage. Just gotta use your stamina against him.”

“Well, I almost had _you_ beat before that cheap shot about my mom.” Nick told Paul.

“You started that shit! Don't ever call me _ponyboy_  again.”

“Deal, brother.”

They slapped hands to make it official.

“No, but, Paul,” Ward spoke up when he had a window. He was genuinely curious. “For real, whadju mean _the ceremony_?”

“Centaurs and orcs have a small piece of cross culture.” Paul explained. “Orcs are the only other race that can hold their own against Us. It is Honorable to begin acquaintances between our kind with a fight.”

“That way we learn the important stuff right up front.” Nick said. “Strength. Skill. Smell.”

Ward harrumphed, still finding his orcish partner’s hang up about smell mildly uncomfortable but in a humorous way.

“More orcs should be cops,” Paul was saying. “I am Honored to serve with such fierce warriors.”

“So be a marine,” Ward deadpanned with a single shoulder shrug. The U.S. military reportedly had more orcs than anything else in most units.

The kid realized he had put one of his four feet in it by suggesting humans were not worthy cops. He blushed and began to stammer. Ward’s deadpan glare cracked, and he and Nick laughed.

Paul sighed with relief, face splitting into a smile, too.

“Oh, man,” Nick elbowed the centaur on the hip. “I love not being the rookie diversity hire anymore. This is going to be fun.”

Ward laughed and hooked an arm around Nick’s neck. “Whatchu think that changes anything for you, rook?”

“I'm not a rookie anymore, Daryl!” And it definitely felt like he had a little brother the way the orc squirmed from his hold. Fondness felt warm in Ward’s chest.

“Whatever you say, rook.” He flapped a hand lazily in a casual goodbye and headed for the lockers. “I'll leave you two Fierce Warriors to your super exclusive Ceremonies or whatever.”

As he went he heard Paul call out, “It is an Honor serving with you, Officer Ward!” To which he tossed a hand up to acknowledge the same before rounding the corner.

He wasn't going to outright say it, but he liked this Paul guy. And he liked that Nick was finally making other friends. And he really liked the way Nick was winning over the respect of the rest of the precinct a little more each day. It made him feel like even after everything, things could still change for the better.

 

[Ponyboy?](https://goo.gl/images/fwKcB8)


End file.
